


Three Christmases

by pennilesspoet



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 02:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennilesspoet/pseuds/pennilesspoet
Summary: Three Christmases in the lives of Patrick and David.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Patrick Brewer/Rachel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 112





	Three Christmases

**Author's Note:**

> This is a teeny tiny drabble. I thought about writing little vignettes around several holidays throughout the year, but then I started building my annual holiday playlist and well...this happened instead.

[_**Baby Won’t You Wait Until The New Year**_](https://youtu.be/RgWl068ccrw)

_ Baby, won’t you wait until the New Year _

_ Before you tell me that we’re through _

_B_ _efore you go and tear the love we have in two _

_'Cause when I look back on Christmas _

_ I don’t want it to lose its spark _

_ Baby, won’t you wait until the New Year to break my heart _

The laundry room was the only room in the house that wasn’t decked out for Christmas, and for that, Patrick was grateful.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Patrick let the smile slide off of his face. His parent’s annual holiday party used to be something that he looked forward to, but over the past few years, the idea of being in a room full of family and friends filled him with dread. Well-meaning party guests would pepper Patrick with some variation of the same question: _ When are you and Rachel settling down? _ This year, with a ring on Rachel’s finger, the questions became even more difficult to answer: _ When is the wedding? Where are you looking to buy a house? _ Patrick could only smile, nod, and mumble vague answers for so long before the weight of obligation began to panic him. When his aunt Gilda began talking to him and Rachel about a wedding venue that _ had to be booked now if you want your wedding in the spring _ , he muttered something about a bathroom and _ too much eggnog _ and slipped away.

He didn’t want to marry Rachel. He didn’t want to wither away in a job that he hated. He didn’t want any part of this life that he had built for himself on a foundation of hopes and expectations. He was suffocating inside a cage of his own making, and somewhere in his soul, he knew that if he didn’t get out now, he would never be able to.

This time next year - if he stayed, this time next year he would be married. He would be answering questions about having children. This time next year - he wanted to be anywhere else.

“Patrick? Honey, your mom is looking for you,” Rachel was standing in the doorway to the laundry room. She looked lovely, in her festive gold and green dress, and Patrick couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection for his best friend and fiancée.

He would have to wait until after the holidays to tell her. He would have to tell her, would have to break her heart (again). But not until after the new year. Rachel loved Christmas; he couldn’t do that to her.

His heart hurt; he pushed down his feelings, pushed down the aching want, the selfish need to free himself from everything he knew. He took his fiancée’s hand, and let her lead him back out to the party.

~@~

[_**Last Christmas**_](https://youtu.be/E8gmARGvPlI)

_ Last Christmas, I gave you my heart _

_ But the very next day you gave it away _

_ This year, to save me from tears _

_ I’ll give it to someone special _

The holiday lights blurred as tears filled his eyes. He should have known that Juliana’s warehouse party was a bad idea.

It was bad enough that Sebastian had shown up with his new _ flavor of the month _ on his arm; an hour later, he found his own date on the rooftop, fooling around with Sebastian _and _his new boy toy. It wasn’t exactly the holiday miracle he was hoping for.

He supposes it’s his own fault; there is something about the snow and the lights and the coziness of the holidays that makes him want to find someone to hold - someone to hold him. Alexis is always telling him that he needs to stop watching so many RomComs (_They’re not _ real _ , David!” “I know that!” _ ) but he can’t help it - December is meant to be romantic, and warm, and lovely - not cold, and lonely, and fucking _ depressing _.

The snow that fell this morning, a glittering, magical blanket of frost - is now a filthy grey sludge, perfectly encapsulating David’s sour mood as he makes his way back to his penthouse apartment - alone again. It’s late, and it’s Christmas Eve, so the typically bustling streets are nearly empty. The wind is bitterly cold, and David pauses on his walk to take a deep breath. He tilts his head up to the sky, blinking away ridiculous tears. Above him, the sky is nearly black - it’s nearly impossible to see the stars in New York City, after all.

~@~

**[_All I Want For Christmas Is You_](https://youtu.be/yXQViqx6GMY) **

_ I don’t want a lot for Christmas _

_ There is just one thing I need _

_ I don’t care about the presents _

_ Underneath the Christmas tree _

_ I just want you for my own _

_ More than you could ever know _

_ Make my wish come true _

_ All I want for Christmas is you _

Patrick locked the door behind the last customer and flipped the sign to closed. David had turned off some of the lights on the sales floor, giving the store a soft, golden glow. The clove and amber candle at the cash was still burning, and Patrick realized that he would forever associate the scent with the holiday season - the candle had been burning through most of the last week - their biggest week of the year by far. He was looking forward to crunching the numbers for today - he was sure neither of them realized how many last-minute shoppers there were in Schitt’s Creek. They had both projected that the store would slow down quite a bit by the afternoon - it was Christmas Eve after all - but they really hadn’t slowed down all day. 

“We sold out of the peppermint hand cream,” David muttered, breaking Patrick from his reverie. Patrick looked over at his partner, a soft smile growing on his face. David was re-aligning the merchandise, adjusting it to his exacting standards.

“I’d imagine we are out of most of the holiday stock - we should think about moving some of the self-care merchandise up to the front of the store for the New Year.”

“Mmm, or we could go home and sip hot cocoa and watch ‘_The Holiday_’”, David smirked playfully. Patrick closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around David’s waist.

“Again? What about ‘_Die Hard_’? That’s a holiday classic,” Patrick blinked up at David, a mock-serious expression on his face.

“Mmkay, if you want to make it through the New Year with me, you’ll need to revise that statement.”

“We could build a fire and open presents?”

“Better.”

~@~

David was unbuckled and out of the car before Patrick had even killed the engine. The idea of a cozy night in with hot cocoa and the person he loved was something he wanted to make a reality as soon as possible. Thoughts of lonely holidays past flitted through his brain, but they no longer haunted him the way they used to. He looked up at the night sky, and a glittering canopy of stars twinkled back at him. Not for the first time, David found himself thankful that his family had lost their fortune and landed in this horrible, wonderful town.

He looked down when Patrick took his hand. They shared a warm smile, then Patrick turned and led him toward the apartment building. 

Later, snuggled beneath a fuzzy blanket, his eyes fell to Patrick, who was curled into David's side, snoozing through ‘_Love Actually_’. Empty mugs of cocoa sat on the table before him, and the last embers of their fire popped in the fireplace. David’s eyes slid over to their small, tastefully decorated tree. They’d never gotten to the gifts, but David realized that he really had all that he needed, right here in his arms.

(An espresso machine would be nice, though.)


End file.
